Even the Best of Friends Forget
by LobsterSalad
Summary: 'Damnit, where were they'-In the town of Hetaliano, there was a small fight going on, and apparently only one awesome member of the Bad Touch Trio remembered. The other two were busy-babysitting. Great, now what was Gilbert going to do?


To be street smart in the town of Hetaliano, there were things that the average person had to remember.

1. The Allies are called "Allies" for a reason-mess with one and the other 4 will have your head.

2. The Axis are also not to be messed with.

3. You can mess with two members of the Bad Touch Trio, but that signifies a declaration of war. And they'll pay you back. Hard.

There were more, but this concerns point number three. The Bad Touch Trio.

How to describe the BTT? Just a trio of friends who's got each other's back is the easiest way, and we'll stick with that. Even when the sun is hitting the town so hard that it feels as if you're drowning in your sweat, and there's a group of punks surrounding you with baseball bats, and you feel as if you're going to pass out because damnit-it's so hot and too bright, and you forgot your sunglasses (which are so _baddass_), you can always count on your friends to get your back.

_Bullshit_, thought Gilbert, looking warily around. _Where the hell is Francis and Antonio? I can't take on 10 punks with friggin' baseball bats all at once!_ Once again he wiped the sweat off his brows and wished that he had remembered to bring his sunglasses, or at least a hat. Warm summer weather, he decided, was not a good time to have a street fight in. Especially if your two best friends didn't seem to be showing up.

The leader of the other group smirked and walked up to him, pushing his bat up into Gilbert's chest. "So, what happened to the other two members of the trio, eh? They ditched you?"

Gilbert just spat in his face and cackled. "Aha! The Awesome that is me won't lose to you! And Francis and Antonio are coming soon to _kick your asses to next Tuesday._" I hope, he added silently in his head.

Damn it, where _were_ they?

**xxx**

Babysitting was the answer. At least, for Antonio it was.

"Ah Roma! No-don't put that in your mouth-" he hurriedly snatched the offending object from the brunet's hand.

Romano Lovino Vargas, currently a year and a month old, frowned (even more than usual) as his toy was taken away by his annoying babysitter. Tears leaked out of his eyes. "W-waah! Waaah! WAAAAH!" I want that back!- was what he wanted to say, but of course, how could a one year old form a sentence like that? Romano hadn't even said his first word yet.

Apparently, though, Antonio was used to baby speak (even though it usually consists of "Waah", "Guurg", or "Pooo") and he picked the child up, jiggling him slightly. "Sorry, Roma, but you can't put anything that's not food in your mouth!" he said to the still crying one year old with what he thought was a stern voice.

Romano just smashed his fist into Antonio's face for even _daring_ to try to explain why Antonio took his toy away. He pouted and turned his head away from his babysitter.

Seeing that, Antonio just gushed how _cute_ his charge was and cuddled even more. Hmm, there seems to be something he's forgotten about...oh well, nothing's more important than babysitting Roma! Swinging around to the soft classical Italian music that was constantly played in the house (Julius, Romano's grandpa, liked to impress the ladies that way), Antonio hummed and tried to persuade the baby to sleep.

"Sleeeep, Roma," he muttered. "Sleeeeep. Fusosososssooo~ Sleeeeeep, Roma~"

Which just resulted in another fist smashed into Antonio's face. Granted, it didn't hurt, but still-Antonio thought that he didn't deserve _two_ baby punches just because he was trying to care for Roma!

"Bad Roma!" He softly tapped the baby on the nose as punishment. "You shouldn't punch people!" He was subjected to the most disdainful stare that a one year old could muster up. Which, considering the one year old in question was Romano Vargas, was _quite_ disdainful.

"Well, be that way then!" Antonio huffed indignantly and placed Romano in the play pen, himself walking to the kitchen. "If you don't want to play nice, then I won't either! Just stay there alone and eat every toy you want, see if I care!" He heard a snort behind him. Without turning around, he said, "Fine, be that way! I'll just have some tomatoes."

He looked at Francis, who was sitting on the sofa and reading some porn that Julius had left lying around the house. "Francis, say something!"

"_Oui_, I will. This lady looks like she's in dire need of a fine piece of French ass." Francis flipped the magazine to show Antonio the page that he was on. "Amazing, _non_? I am so glad that you asked me to babysit with you, 'Tonio. Julius seems like such a kindred spirit-"

"FRANCIS, PUT THAT MAGAZINE AWAY! ROMANO'S RIGHT NEXT TO YOU!"

The blonde looked at the baby in the play pen (who actually wasn't looking at the magazine, just glaring at Antonio's back) and grinned. "Oh, it's _fine_! Big Brother Francis will teach the kid everything he needs to know in life anyway, so why not start now?" The baby then turned his eyes on him, and while Antonio wasn't looking, flipped him the bird.

Francis had been flipped the bird many times. Gilbert, Arthur, Alfred, Yao, Elizaveta, even Antonio. But he considered that he's hit a personal low now since a baby was holding up the finger to him.

"Antonio," he called out to his friend (currently in the kitchen, looking for tomatoes), "you're charge is so NOT cute."

"Not true~" was the answer. "Romano's ve~ry cute, he just needs to work on his temper. Right, Roma?"

"Ga-goo." The brunet huffed and glared in the direction of the kitchen. "Ga-goo goo waa-poooh!"

Antonio, finally finding a tomato, stuck his head out of the kitchen and sent a "behave yourself" glare at Romano. "Watch your language," he said.

Romano just turned stuck his tongue out.

Antonio's glare deepened as he went back into the kitchen. "Suit yourself, then, Roma."

Francis picked up the porn (he had to sit on it when Antonio yelled at him earlier) and just shook his head. "I don't know what's more pathetic, the fact that you can understand what he's saying or the fact that you're arguing with a _baby_ who probably doesn't even know what you're talking about."

"Romano's very smart," Antonio called back to Francis, "He knows what I'm talking about." He cleaned his hand and picked up another tomato. Hmm, Julius sure knew where to buy his tomatoes-but these weren't really _that_ amazing, maybe he could offer to plant a tomato plant here. "Hey, Francis, is it just me or is there something important that was supposed to happen today?"

**xxx**

Gilbert tried to stall for time. Antonio and Francis couldn't possibly forget the fight, they just needed a few more minutes. He looked at his watch from his periphery vision, 2:26 pm. Damn.

"H-hey, you know, what you did back then was unawesome."

The leader, with his purple hair and purple eyes (dyed hair and contacts, duh) just leered lazily, stretching out his lips and showing off his golden front tooth. "You mean, dumping my orange juice on you, my group using the Trio's spot, kicking the Spaniard down the stairs, or calling the Frenchie a manwhore?"

Hearing the response, Gilbert couldn't help but laugh. Never mind that he was in a potentially dangerous situation, the guy's response was hilarious! "You mean, you did all that just to have an excuse to fight with us? You were lucky all you did to Francis was to call him names, or else the Allies would've been involved too." Insert a feral grin. "Of course, it's been a long time since I've worked out like this. It'll be a nice warm up. Not awesome, of course, since it concerns you."

The purple haired leader just sneered back at the German (he didn't care how loud Gilbert proclaimed himself as Prussian). "Of course, a nice _warm up_. Let's see if your two friends are going to come and enjoy this warm up with you, or are you going to hog this? I wouldn't mind, you know. We can even start. Right. Now." He slowly tapped his baseball bat into his palm and flicked his head to his groupies. "Guys, what do you say that _we_ start-ah-_warming up_ with Gilbo here first?"

Gilbert's eyes went wide. "N-not awesome. You guys have weapons!" -and this is ten on one, he added in his head.

There was no answer, the group just started in on him. So he did the only thing he could. Escape like hell out of there.

It's called a tactical retreat.

**xxx**

Francis shoved the porn away once Antonio asked that question. How could he forget? How could Antonio forget? The _fight_-Gilbert is probably there already. He looked at his watch, 2:30 pm. It was supposed to start 2:20 pm. Ten minutes late. He sweat dropped; Gilbert was probably already a shapeless Gilbertian mass, and all because Antonio insisted on babysitting for Julius.

"Antonio! The fight!"

The Spaniard's face shot up from his third tomato (it was a gigantic one) and he paled visibly. Racing out of the kitchen, he slammed into Francis.

"_Lo siento, amigo_! We have to go now! Gilbert-he won't be able to keep his big mouth shut and he'll provoke them. _Dios mio_,_ ádonde es Gilbert ahora? Olvidé el lugar-_" (My god, where is Gilbert now? I forgot the place-)

"Antonio-calm down!" Francis grabbed Antonio's head and slammed it into the wall (not too hard). "Better?"

"_Sí, gracias._" He took a deep breath. After being slammed into the wall, things were snapping into perspective. They need to get to Gilbert. Immediately. "Francis, let's go."

"_Oui_."

The two of them dashed out of the door, forgetting the baby/almost toddler back in the play pen. Romano's eyes watered, and tears streamed down his chubby cheeks, but he wasn't howling. Maybe a bit of whimpering...and slight sobbing...and burying his head into his favourite tomato plushie...

When Francis and Antonio were halfway to the sidewalk, Antonio suddenly realised that maybe leaving a one year old (Roma'll always glare at him until he added the "month", though) at home alone wasn't a good idea.

"Francis-Romano's back in the house!" He stopped in his tracks and turned his worried eyes at Francis.

"He'll be okay. Gilbert might be beaten to a pulp right now."

Antonio, to Francis' frustration, stayed on the spot and spent five seconds hesitating. Five seconds of time they could've used to rush towards their friend. And at the end, Antonio dashed back towards the house.

"What are you thinking?" shouted Francis.

"Roma must be crying!" He shouted back as he burst back into the house, just to see Romano hugging a tomato plushie and sobbing his heart out into it.

Antonio wanted to take a camera and capture the cute and heartbreaking moment forever, but there were things to be done. He grabbed a baby sling that was laying on the floor inside the play pen and placed Romano into it, then putting it on himself. As Francis came into the house to hurry him up, Antonio went into the kitchen to get a bottle of warm milk.

"Francis, get some diapers!" Antonio ordered as he grabbed a pacifier from the kitchen counter and sticking it in Romano's mouth.

"You aren't doing what I think you are doing, right?" asked Francis, horrified at the sudden thought. "You-you can't take Romano-"

"Francis, just get the f*cking diapers!"

Francis dashed off to the bathroom, where he knew a whole supply of diapers were kept. Taking three and shoving them into Antonio's hands, he said, "Antonio, you know we're going-"

"I know! But I can't leave Romano at home!" And without another word, he sped past his friend and out the doors. "Come ON, FRANCIS!"

**xxx**

Gilbert ran. Having ten people chasing you with baseball bats is a huge incentive to _run like the wind_. His hand gravitated toward his pocket, where his cellphone was kept. He stuck it in there and pulled the phone out, hitting speed dial for Francis.

Rrring- damnit, _pick up_!

"Gilbert? Are you alright?" Francis' voice was hurried and out of breath, as if he was running. "Where are you right now? Antonio and I are on our way to the meeting spot."

"Meeting spot my ASS! Speaking of my ass, it's going to get kicked-which is totally NOT AWESOME- if you don't get to me right now!" He ducked, barely avoiding a bat that was thrown at him from behind.

"Are you running?"

"Of course the awesome me is _tactically retreating!_"

"Gilbert, tell me your general position-"

"I'M RUNNING TOO FAST TO LOCK ON A GENERAL POSITION!"

"!" A faster runner of the group caught to within three feet of Gilbert and raised his bat to slam it on his head. Gilbert pulled ahead and missed the bat by an inch, then pivoted on his right foot to slam his left into the guy's gut.

"Oof!"

"Something tells me that someone got hurt," said Francis' voice over the phone.

"Not the awesome me!" Shit, the others are catching up-just because of the two seconds he took to kick one person. Gilbert wheezed as he continued to run. His lungs hurt- as if someone had used it as a private punching bag, and it was so painful to even take one breath-

"Breathe, amigo, breathe evenly!" Apparently Francis had switched the phone over to Antonio. "In and out, in and out. Evenly."

He took one huge breath, then slowly exhaled. "Alright guys," he panted, turning a corner and flipping the bird to the people behind him, "I've got a plan."

**xxx**

There was an empty plot bordering the abandoned church in Hetaliano. Recenty the Allies had taken to sprucing it up (for environmental purposes, apparently) and it was currently the home to 3 species of sunflowers, 2 species of peonies, a beautiful bush of Tudor roses, more grass, and a small pear sapling that the Allies had pooled their money into buying.

Needless to say, Francis was alarmed when Gilbert said, "I'm going to lure them into the yard next to the old church and you and Antonio jump over the walls to back me up when I give you two the signal. Think you can make it?"

"_Mon cher,_ you do realise that if even a single petal of a sunflower is damaged, Ivan would kill us?"

"There's no better place," argued Gilbert, gripping his phone even tighter. "It's a place I'm close to right now. There won't be any interruptions from anyone, and we'll back them into a corner."

"You do realise that ten to three in a garden-"

"-Just because there's flowers and a tree doesn't make it a garden-"

"-ten to three in a _garden_ surrounded on three sides by walls would surely mean that _we_ are the ones in the corner?"

Gilbert just _tched_ and continued running in the direction of the church. "Believe me, I'll make it work. I'm Prussian and we're the best damn tacticians there are!" He thought that he heard a gurgle on the other side of the phone. "Francis? What's that sound I here?"

"Just another distraction."

Gilbert then threw that to the back of his head. There were more pressing matters to deal with. "I can see the church now, how 'bout you two?"

"Almost there-Antonio HURRY UP!"

He thought that he heard a "He wet his pants!" but Gilbert just attributed that to bad connection and the fact that the punks were catching up to him. Putting one last burst of energy into his legs, he swerved into the plot and pressed his back against a wall, facing the only opening. And accidentally crushing one of Arthur's precious Tudor roses-but that can be dealt with later.

The group baying for his blood followed him inside, slowing down now that they think they've got him. Steve, the leader, was breathing hard and trying to catch his breath while laughing at the "cornered mouse" in front of them. Not a good combination, especially if the "cornered mouse" had some (somewhat) reliable backup.

"Right in my trap," said Gilbert, smirking. "Of course, you can't expect to beat me in tactics, since I'm so awesome and all. I mean, you can laugh all you want-you can even laugh while I'm beating your shit into the ground."

"Tactics? Traps?" Steve scoffed, leaning on his bat, "Don't give me bullshit. All I see is a poor guy surrounded, with no way out. So, I'll do you a favor," he snapped his fingers and gestured for his underlings to spread out, covering the only exit. "Do you want to have every bone in your body broken and left blissfully unconscious, or to have each one of us to give you three hard knocks anywhere with our bats? Not the head, though," he amended, "I'll want to have you savor the experience."

Silently hoping that Antonio and Francis would've gotten there by that time, Gilbert sauntered over to the purple haired menace-and socked him hard in the stomach.

"NOW, FRANCIS, ANTONIO!"

On cue, Francis climbed the ladder and jumped over. To the people not expecting this, it seemed that there was a hand from nowhere sticking out, followed by an arm, then a bearded French face, and finally the whole visage of a rather relieved Frenchman holding a milk bottle. No, that wasn't a typo; while Antonio had been busy changing Romano's diapers, he'd shoved the milk bottle to Francis and warned him not to drop it, "or there'll be consequences, _sí_?"

He sent a flying kick into the person nearest to him and snatched the baseball bat. "Ohonhonhon~I had always wanted to use a _stick_ as a weapon..." Francis blocked a hit and swung the bat-

Once-

Twice-

Thr-

"WHERE'S ANTONIO?" cried out Gilbert, knocking down someone and avoiding Steve's punch. Damnit, he can't hold on without getting hurt much longer, and it's not awesome to get hurt in a fight with some obviously despicable people. If this continues, then he'll have to go all out, which meant that he won't avoid every kick, punch, or even scratch.

"Coming~" This time a tanned hand stuck out from the wall, and Antonio clambered over, landing carefully to avoid jiggling the now sleeping baby in the sling. "Sorry if I'm late, Roma needs a lot of taking care of."

But the childish tone aside (he didn't want to scare the sleeping Romano), Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was in full battle mode. Green eyes glinted with poison, he twisted his lips sadistically, and started to dance. Well, not _actually_ dancing- he was in the middle of a fight, for goodness sake!-but his moves were so full of Latin grace that it might as well have been dancing. While Francis preferred to use his stolen bat like a fencing sword (though he had to make adjustments...a bat isn't _really_ a sword after all), and Gilbert liked to use his fists and kicks (or anything, really-the Prussian improvises a lot), Antonio liked to employ a certain pattern of "duck and slam their heads together" or something like that. But that was close contact, and he soon found that he couldn't really do close contact very much without having Romano threatened too much, so he took a bat from an unconscious member and used that.

It took the Trio a total of 5 minutes to annihilate the ten people. Steve was sobbing at the end as Gilbert sat on him.

"You see, _Stepheny_- that's your name, right? Aren't we nice for leaving you conscious?- ten to three is totally unfair for you guys, since you're facing the awesomeness that is the Bad Touch Trio. I mean," he smirked, "challenge us all you want! We're not going to stop you! Right, Tonio? Francis? Hey, guys!"

"_Oui, oui_, whatever you say." Francis finished disinfecting some scratches and started to work on Antonio (who had a nasty bruise on his arm, courtesy of blocking an attack aimed at Romano, needless to say, the one who attempted _that_ ended up in a worse condition).

Seeing his long haired friend ignoring him, Gilbert turned to look at Antonio. "Well, Tonio? What do you say? We answer to all challenges, right?" He flicked a finger in Steve's face.

"Hmm? What, Gilbert?" Antonio looked up from bottle feeding Romano. "Romano's so cute, right? I absolutely couldn't just leave him at home. Besides, Julius would kill me if he found out I left a one year old alone!" His eyes widened as if the thought was horrible. "I mean, even if Julius wouldn't get mad, I still would never leave Roma home alone." He felt Francis finish spreading some Chinese medicine from Yao on his arm and moved on to somewhere else. "Francis, I don't think I was hurt on my ass."

"Ohonhon~well, there's no harm in checking, right?"

Steve groaned. He lost to those idiots?

**Extra**

Veneziano Feliciano Vargas froze when he learned that Antonio had brought his precious little brother into a fight.

"S-sorry, Feli," Antonio rubbed his head nervously. "I couldn't just leave Roma at home, but Gilbert needed help, so-"

"You couldn't have called me?" The slight frown that wormed its way onto his face deepened even more. "Big brother Antonio, that was very irresponsible of you. What if Romano got hurt?"

"He didn't, I made sure of that!" He looked towards Francis and Gilbert for help. Gilbert kept his eyes trained on his manual while Francis looked up to the sky and whistled Dixie.

O-okay, he was on his own.


End file.
